


One True Thing, Or Commentfic What Pretty Pictures Inspire

by sternel



Category: Star Trek
Genre: M/M, commentfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-19
Updated: 2010-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-12 00:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternel/pseuds/sternel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commentfics inspired by the picture posts on the Jim & Bones community on LJ.  (Posts are locked, but anyone over 18 can join.)  Cleaned up a little, but unbeta'd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One True Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the [Delurking Challenge](http://community.livejournal.com/jim_and_bones/214783.html#cutid1) at Jim & Bones on LJ (Members only, open to everyone 18+).

McCoy threw his surgical gloves into the waste receptacle and slumped against the wall for a moment, taking a deep breath to clear his mind. He could hear Chapel cleaning up from the surgery, and the sounds were enough to make him push off from the wall and flee into the main exam area. It was almost empty; M'benga had finished triaging everyone else from the landing party. He could see Spock standing by the bed at the far end of the room, and someone seated on it. "All right, who's still here?" he asked wearily, making his way across the room, and Spock turned just far enough that he could see Jim on the bed.

"Jim!" He reached for a scanner as he sped up, but Spock held up a hand.

"Doctor. Lieutenant White?"

Oh. That's why they were still here. He felt his lips compressing into a thin line, and looked away, shaking his head. When he looked back, Jim's face was hidden by his hands, and Spock's eyes were closed. "It was just -- the damage from that weapon was just too severe." Jim hadn't moved. "I'm sorry, Jim. We did everything we could. It just wasn't enough."

"Doctor." Spock's eyes were understanding. "We know." He dropped a hand briefly onto Jim's shoulder and stepped back. "Captain, I will be on the bridge."

"Yeah. Thanks, Spock," Jim said, and he did not look up as Spock left.

McCoy frowned, and slipped closer once the room was empty. "Jim."

"He had a little girl, Bones." Jim leaned in when McCoy lifted the scanner, just to make sure Jim wasn't hiding one of his surprise injuries from him. "Lieutenant White. He had a daughter. Molly. She turned eight last month, he asked me to record a birthday message because she loved hearing all about the ship, and then she recorded a thank-you message for me and God, Bones, she looks so much like her father –" He sucked in a breath, and it sounded like a sob. McCoy put the scanner down and reached out, and Jim threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, face crumpling. "Now I have to tell her –"

"I'm sorry, Jim," McCoy whispered, pushing away thoughts of Joanna. "I'm here. I've got you."

"She's just a little girl," Jim repeated, and finally broke down. "I'm supposed to tell her he said he loved her. He asked me to tell her. How can I say that?"

McCoy pulled him closer, rocking him a little, like the lost boy he sounded like. "Because it's true, Jim. Maybe the only true thing, you know?" He rested a hand on the back of Jim's head, and held him until the tears stopped, and when Jim picked his head up he handed him tissues.

Jim wiped his cheeks and blew his nose noisily. He didn't meet McCoy's eyes but his shoulders were a little straighter. "I do know, Bones." Then he looked up, and his lips rose – not a smile, exactly, but it would be eventually. "Thanks."

"Anytime," McCoy said, and squeezed Jim's shoulder tightly. "Anytime, Jim."

(8/01/10)


	2. Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this picture post](http://community.livejournal.com/jim_and_bones/224508.html) at Jim & Bones on LJ. (Members-only, open to everyone 18+)

Jim was used to hot, humid summers, but humidity in Iowa was _nothing_ like humidity in Georgia. Even stripping down to his shorts hadn't helped. The atmosphere was almost smothering, hanging thick and heavy around him as he stretched out in the shade of the huge willow tree that was his favorite part of Bones' home, hoping that maybe a breeze would come along and stir the air.

"You fall asleep I'm not movin you." A bare toe prodded Jim's arm, and he squinted, turning his head to see Bones had come back with the pitcher of sweet tea he'd promised. "You can lie right there and burn that pale-ass skin of yours once the sun's shifted a little more."

"I'm a farmboy from way back," Jim protested, propping himself up on his elbows as Bones stretched out next to him, reaching for the empty glasses from their long-finished picnic.

"The farmer's tan would certainly back you up," Bones pointed out with a smirk, and Jim glared, claiming his glass.

"Not like I was going to be lying around tanning shirtless while you had Joanna here," he muttered, gulping down half the glass in one go. When he looked up, Bones' eyes were fixed on his throat. "What?"

"Nothin. Just – c'mere." Bones put the pitcher down – far enough that they wouldn't kick it over this time, Jim noticed with amusement – and crawled forward, hovering over Jim. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the sound of air moving in and out of Bones' lungs, imagining the molecules traveling between them, buoyed by steady exhalations. When he opened his eyes, Bones was so close he couldn't see his entire face at once, so Jim focused on his mouth, open slightly and mere centimeters away. He was so close now Jim could feel each breath against his lips.

"Bones," he whispered, mouth suddenly gone dry, and reached out with one hand to cradle the back of his head. He watched in fascination as Bones leaned back into his hand, and picked his head up to follow, keeping the distance between their mouths down to just the space of a breath.

"You should kiss me now," Bones whispered, each word a little tickle of air against Jim's lips, and he couldn't resist, reaching up through all the molecules humming between them to seal their lips together. When they finally pulled apart, Bones gently nipped the tip of his nose with his teeth and grinned, and Jim took a long, deep breath of the air around them, the smell of sweet tea and willow mingling with the taste of Bones on his tongue.

(8/16/2010)


	3. I'll Be Your Blanket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this picture post](http://community.livejournal.com/jim_and_bones/229884.html) at Jim & Bones on LJ. (Members-only, open to everyone 18+)

He wakes up in the middle of the night only to realize his back is cold, and the blankets are a tangled mess at his feet. Sitting up, he scratches at an itch between his shoulder blades as best as he can reach, and reaches down to grab the blankets and straighten them out. Bones has rolled over -- _no wonder my back was cold_ , he thinks with a fond smile, and tucks the blankets around them both before settling on his other side, pressed against Bones. He snakes an arm under the pillow, the other embracing Bones and pulling him closer, nuzzling his nose at that spot behind his ear.

"Mmmpf." Bones cracks one eye, sleep keeping it from focusing properly. "Whasat?"

"Just fixing the blankets," Jim whispers. "You kicked 'em again."

"Hmph." Bones' eye winks shut again, and he covers Jim's hand on his stomach with his own, pulling it higher against his chest as his breathing evens out again. Jim drops a kiss against his shoulder, and lets his own eyes drift closed. Just as he's nearly asleep again, Bones lifts their joined hands to kiss Jim's knuckles, and he presses his smile into Bones' neck as sleep takes them both.

(8/23/10)


	4. The Hangover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this picture post](http://community.livejournal.com/jim_and_bones/240632.html#cutid1) at Jim & Bones on LJ. (Members only, open to everyone 18+).

He woke up slowly, the haze of alcohol still heavy on his tongue and over his eyes. He had to blink several times to focus enough to see –

Carpet.

The ugly, uncomfortable, standard-issue grey carpet of his dorm room. He stared at it, unsure why he was so close to the carpet, when he realized there was something behind him. He couldn't even roll over to see, because it was heavy, so he turned his head.

Big mistake. He closed his eyes and waited for the sloshing feeling to fade. "Eurph."

"Shut up, Bones."

OK, that he recognized. That was Jim's voice. "What the hell, Jim."

"Stop shouting," Jim growled, and the pressure on his back eased when Jim squirmed away. On his other side there was an angry mutter, and Gary fucking Mitchell picked his head up long enough to give Jim a dirty look.

"Stop moving, I was asleep," he snapped, and put his head back against Jim's back and was out again in seconds.

"What the hell is this?" McCoy finally managed to say, awkwardly. His mouth was as dry as Vulcan during a sandstorm, and forming words moved his head too much to be really comfortable.

"We had a party," Jim slurred, and snaked an arm around McCoy's waist. "Stop shouting."

"I'm not shouting, goddammit," only now he was hurting his own head, so he subsided, ignoring Mitchell's annoyed whine. "Wait. Wait. You assholes drank all my goddamned bourbon."

Jim peeled one eyelid up to peer at him, and then shut it again. "We'll buy more."

"That was good bourbon, you asshole," McCoy muttered sadly, letting his head rest carefully on the pillow beneath him. "You better not tell me it got puked up."

"All right, I won't tell you," Jim said, and it was almost cheerful. "Shut up and go back to sleep."

McCoy closed his eyes, and the throbbing in his head subsided, just a bit. "I hate you both," he muttered. Jim chuckled weakly and stole some of the pillow, breathing on McCoy's neck as he passed out again, and Mitchell threw an arm over both of them as he snored.

 _I'm too goddamn old for this shit_ , McCoy thought, before sleep claimed him again.

(9/07/10)


End file.
